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  • Format: ePub

What would happen if energy suddenly became free, clean and inexhaustible? The answers may be surprising. It speaks to our wistful sense of escapism from the crushing effects of environmental catastrophe and the inevitability of the economic status quo with a revolutionary 'magic pill', but is it really worth it? A clear, sharp shot cracked out. People screamed, began running in every direction, or simply froze. The photographer instantly ducked, jerking his head left, then right, searching, packing his kits as he started waddling quickly backwards, towards Basil Street, towards Zafir's coffee…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
What would happen if energy suddenly became free, clean and inexhaustible? The answers may be surprising. It speaks to our wistful sense of escapism from the crushing effects of environmental catastrophe and the inevitability of the economic status quo with a revolutionary 'magic pill', but is it really worth it? A clear, sharp shot cracked out. People screamed, began running in every direction, or simply froze. The photographer instantly ducked, jerking his head left, then right, searching, packing his kits as he started waddling quickly backwards, towards Basil Street, towards Zafir's coffee shop. Another shot, this time from much closer, louder, a different gun. Again the photographer jinked, turned and ran a zigzag pattern like a trained soldier. Zafir actually saw a puff of limestone express off the building just above the cameraman's head. The photographer was the target! Multiple shooters were out there. Full panic was now building on the street. People burst into the shop, pointing, shouting, shrieking. Cell phones were whipped out and people started making calls or recording images. Zafir pulled back into the corner as far as he could squeeze, out of the window. Glancing up the street, he couldn't see the Americans anymore. People were running on Brompton as well. Given its recent tragic history, London doesn't react to street carnage very well . Zafir clearly saw the photographer dash by the entrance to the coffee house, his older face steeled, jaw tight, white ponytail flying; all the look and moves of someone who has been under fire before.


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